Restless
by ringanybells
Summary: Mary and Marshall get seperated, each having their own witnesses to take care of. What happens to the marshal protecting a teenage witness when the mob comes looking? M


_[A/N: So I started this fic ages ago, before Raph proposed, before the shooting, and I decided I needed to finish it and post it before the new season starts. Hope you all enjoy.]_

Mary hung up the phone. It was eleven o'clock. Stan had just called to let her know there was a change in plans. She and Marshall were supposed to board a plane at five to transport one of his witnesses to Virginia. But Stan had just informed her that there was an emergency relocate in Oregon. So Marshall would be boarding the plane to Virginia in the morning alone. She was to report to the hangar now to take one of the private planes to pick up her new witness.

She pressed speed dial, putting the phone to her ear as she grabbed her stuff and headed for her car. Marshall picked up after 4 rings. "We're boarding a plane together in six hours. What could you possibly need to say to me now?"

Mary chuckled, she had woken him up. He was always a tad touchy when she did that; "That I won't be boarding that plane."

"What do you mean? What happened?" Marshall was immediately alert, concern evident in his voice.

"I just got off the phone with Stan. I'm on my way to the hangar now to do an emergency relocate in Oregon. An eighteen year old girl turned states on her mafia boyfriend after she witnessed him shoot her father. Somehow the mafia found her. According to Stan, it was a bloody mess; three dead mobsters and two injured marshals. Because of the downed men, they don't have the man power to bring her to me." Mary summed up what Stan had told her as quickly as she could for Marshall.

"So, I'm solo to Virginia and you're off to the great Northwest?" Even over the phone, Mary could sense Marshall's frown, it was evident in his tone. He was not pleased with the change in plans, then again, neither was she.

"Yea, that's about right. Plane ride is two and a half hours, so I'll be landing just after one." Mary supplied the information, knowing Marshall would have asked for it anyway.

"I guess this is unavoidable? I hate sending you to an E.R. by yourself. Maybe we should see if Stan will let us switch." She heard his bed groan, as he stood. Knowing Marshall, he was pacing back and forth at the foot of his bed, trying to figure a way around sending her into possible danger on her own.

Mary was touched by his concern, but wasn't fooled by it. "No way, you just don't want to be stuck with Emily alone."

It was more than that, and they both knew it. But Mary was partially right; he did not want to be alone with Emily, "Fair enough."

"Don't worry, you'll survive."

"I'm not so sure."

"Just grow a set, Marshall, and tell her to shut it." She tried to imagine him telling his overly talkative witness to shut up.

"Maybe I will." They both knew he never would.

"Whatever you say, doofus, just watch your back. Don't let her inane babbling distract you. If you let her skinny blonde ass get you hurt, I'm going to kill you. "

"Yes, mother." He took a deep breath, it was his turn now. "Watch your tongue up in Oregon, Mare, because other people don't find it as endearing as I do. You need them to watch your back in case something happens. They'll be more willing if you haven't insulted them.

It was routine. She hid her concern in threats, he responded with dry sarcasm. He would then in turn lay his cards on the table. She would clam up and brush it aside. They both knew the other cared; it was how they showed it.

"I don't need them to watch my back, that's what I have you for." The words were sweet, the tone was caustic. "It's only a couple of hours, I'll be fine." There was silence for a moment, each listening to the other breath. Mary broke it. "I'll call when I land."

"Be careful." She was the one to hang up.

They didn't say goodbye. It was one of Mary's rules; goodbyes were final. They were reserved for the people you never thought you would see again. Her father had taught her that. He hadn't said goodbye, so she held onto the hope she'd see him again. He hadn't said goodbye, and neither did she.

She was at the hangar now, having kept Marshall on the phone for the length of the drive. She parked, grabbed her bag, and made her way to the plane. She boarded and collapsed into one of the seats. She had two and a half hours before she was officially on duty. She closed her eyes as the plane began to taxi down the runway.

The plane was beginning its descent when Mary opened her eyes. She waited for the plane to stop before grabbing her bag and heading off. Standing on the tarmac, in standard Government Issue black, was a man who Mary knew must be her host.

"Inspector Shannon?" His voice rose over the dying sounds of the engine, carrying across the yards separating them.

A grimace flitted quickly across her face, but she erased it before he could decipher it. "Mary," she corrected. "And who might you be?" She walked toward him.

"Name's Ben Hastings, and I'm at your service." He offered a slight bow.

Mary felt her lips rise in a slight smile. "Nice to meet you. What's the deal?"

"Are you always so business oriented?" A slight smile crept onto the man's face.

"Only when I'm away from home."

"Understood; we've got Kelly stashed about an hour away from here. We get her and get the two of you back in the air ASAP."

"I like the sound of that." She looked Ben up and down. "How are your friends, the two marshals from the fight?"

"They're both okay, slated to make full recoveries."

"That's good." She pondered a minute, looking up toward the darkened sky. "Give me five minutes to make a phone call and then we can go."

Ben nodded once, picked up her bag and went to load it into the SUV. He then leaned against the driver's side door and stood watching her.

She gave him one look hoping to make him avert his eyes. It failed, instead she turned her back to him. Her phone was already at her ear and dialing. She didn't want to wake her partner, knowing he had an early flight and a long day in the court house. Instead, she dialed the extension for his desk. She and Marshall had established a protocol in the first few months of their partnership. When they couldn't be reached via cell, they called the office mailboxes. It had become more than just a way to keep in touch out of state. It had become a way for the two of them to keep in near almost constant contact. She would often call to leave mocking remarks and he would repay her with lengthy diatribes about how things worked. First thing in the morning that either of them did was check their box.

The mailbox picked up after only one ring. She didn't bother with an introduction. "I just landed. I'm probably going to be here for two, two and a half hours. That puts me in the air again around four. I'll try again before takeoff. If I can't get a hold of you then, I'd better get a call from you by eleven. If not, I'm going to take the next plane out there to kick your ass." She took a deep breath. She was already worried about him and he was still in his apartment in Albuquerque. She let out her breath and in a calmer voice spoke again. "Watch your back, Mann. I'll see you tonight."

She disconnected the phone call. A chuckle came from behind her, "Your boyfriend?"

Mary whipped around, "No, my partner."

A look of disbelief crossed his face, "Seriously?"

She knew that she and Marshall had a closer relationship than most law enforcement partners. The events of the last year, Marshall's injury, and her own kidnapping, had only brought the two of them closer. "Yeah, seriously," She replied as she walked around the car. She slipped into the passenger side as he took his position behind the wheel.

"You two sound pretty tight." There was no judgment in his voice.

Mary threw him a burning glare. "We've had a rough year."

He waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he inquired, "Define rough."

Mary thought about ignoring him, but she looked over to see, not a look of mockery, but of understanding. She decided to indulge him, with at least part of the story. "He got shot a couple months ago, while we were on assignment. It puts a lot of things in perspective."

She watched as Ben nodded in agreement, "Yea, it does."

Silence prevailed for the rest of the car ride. Mary took the opportunity to read through Kelly's file. She took care to memorize the faces involved, those of Kelly's ex and his family. Kelly had begun working for her deceased mother's best friend as a waitress in the family's pizza joint. The friend, as it turned out, had been married to New York's version of Tony Soprano. She had worked there for two years, since the age of fifteen, and had spent most of that time dating the son of the mafia leader, Jason Zacarra. As it turned out, he was a goodfella in the making. Kelly had of course known none of this. She had come home early from work one day to find her boyfriend and her father in the kitchen. Her father had never cared for the relationship but had not wanted to make his daughter leave her boyfriend. Jason had come to ask for Kelly's hand, her father had told him no. Jason had shot her father, making it clear to him that he would marry Kelly with or without her father's consent. Kelly had run from the house, calling the police on her way. She had been in the program within twelve hours. It had only taken the Zacarra organization 2 months to track her to Oregon.

They pulled up outside of a hotel and Mary followed Ben up two flights of stairs and down the hall. In a hurry to get the girl and get home, she had left her bag and phone in the car. Ben opened the hotel room door and allowed Mary to enter first.

"You must be Inspector Shannon." An older man sat on the couch across the room. Judging by his suit, which matched Ben's, Mary figured him for the younger marshal's partner.

"It's Mary, but yeah." She nodded along with her response.

Ben stepped forward, "Mary, this is my partner Wes, well Ian Westen, but Wes."

"Hi ya, Wes. Good to meet you." Mary stuck out her hand for the older agent to shake but he took her hand and lowered his lips to it.

"The pleasure is all mine, my dear."

Mary gently, but firmly, pulled her arm out of Wes' grip. "I'm sure it is." She looked around, seeking something to focus on so she didn't deck the agent in front of her. Her eyes landed on the seventeen year old sitting by the window, watching her.

Ben stifled a laugh for Mary's reaction to Wes, then followed her gaze to Kelly. "Mary, this is Kelly." He motioned for Kelly to come forward. "Kel, this is Mary. She's going to be the one taking care of you from here."

Kelly looked Mary up and down, her gaze lingering for a moment on the holster at Mary's hip. "Hi."

Mary could read the young woman well enough to tell that she wasn't very impressed with her new knight in shining armor. "Hey, Kelly, it's nice to meet you."

Ben looked between the two women, a smirk blooming on his face. "Why don't the two of you go grab Kelly's bag. The sooner we get you both in the air, the better."

Mary looked at Ben over her shoulder, trying to see if there was a double meaning to his words. Not able to sense one, she shrugged her shoulders and followed her new witness into the other room. She sat down on the bed while Kelly threw her things into her bag. "Want some help?"

"No, thanks. It's kind of soothing, the packing thing. It's how I know that this is all real."

Mary nodded. "Yeah, I get that. Look, I know I don't look as strong or dependable as those two out there, but I am. I'm good at my job, probably better than either of them."

"Is that why you're alone, and there are two of them?"

Mary hesitated for a moment, then decided to tell the truth. "No, that's not why I'm alone. My partner had to be in court today. You'll meet him later tonight."

"Oh," Kelly didn't sound overly reassured.

"I know what you're thinking. You'd rather have a guy watching over you, because they're supposed to be tougher. But I promise you, you will be safer with me than you were here. I may not look it, but I am one tough chick." Mary allowed a small smile to grace her lips, pleased when she saw an answering one on Kelly. "Come on, we've got a plane to catch."

Kelly made quick work of her suitcase and Mary carried it for her out into the hall. The agents were ready to go as well. They made their way out to the car and onto the road. Before returning to the airport, they stopped at a diner to eat. All four of them had spent the night in watchful silence, rather than blissful sleep. Both Oregon agents were desperate for coffee, the two females for pancakes. As everyone was finishing up the last of their meals, Mary excused herself. Eating had taken longer than she thought it would, she wanted to attempt calling Marshall before he turned his phone off for takeoff.

She was leaving a message when the others joined her outside, Ben noticing the phone to her ear spoke up, "Your partner again?"

Mary turned around, ready to give Inspector Hastings a piece of her mind. But one look at his face stopped her. He was not mocking her or trying to be funny. His eyes held compassion and understanding.

"Yea, his plane already took off." Mary shrugged her shoulders like it was no big deal, even though her stomach was currently in knots.

Ben nodded as well, "He'll call when he lands." His reassurance seemed empty, because he did not know Marshall, or just how worried she was, but she could tell he was sincere.

Mary couldn't help the smile that passed over her face, "He always does." She picked up Kelly's bag and followed her witness onto the plane.

Now that she was officially escorting a witness, she had to stay awake. She busied herself reading the file she had gone over already once before. She made a point to learn the faces of the ex's family. Once they were in the air, she could see that Kelly was more relaxed, falling asleep inside of twenty minutes.

…

Mary drove Kelly to her new apartment. "I know it must be hard, being in the program so young, so my boss made a special arrangement. In the apartment complex where you'll be staying, you'll have a friend. We usually don't do this, but I talked to Roseanne, and she was more than happy to help you out. She lives two floors up, in 21C. If you ever need help, someone to talk to that has gone through what you're going through, she's willing to be there for you. And so am I."

"I really appreciate that. Oregon was kind of lonely." They arrived at the apartment building and went upstairs. Mary pulled out a map, and once Kelly had put her suitcase down, laid it out on the table. She started pointing out locations that Kelly might need- such as the local grocery store, a nearby laundry mat, and a gym that was just around the corner. She wanted to make sure that Kelly had an idea of what the town was like, to ease the transition. She also promised to take Kelly job hunting in the next week.

Having no other pressing engagements until Marshall landed later that night, Mary decided to spend some more time with Kelly. It wasn't normal policy, but a part of her could relate to the girl. After she had been at the apartment for a few hours, she walked over to the window. What she could see was not good.

Two large, black SUVs had pulled up outside the apartment. Men were getting out on all sides. There were eight in all, and even from here, Mary could see that they were all carrying.

"Kelly, Kelly, listen to me." Kelly walked over to Mary and looked outside, seeing the men. "Kel, I need you to go upstairs to Roseanne's. Go up and tell her I need you to stay there." She fished out a card from her pocket. "Call this number and ask for Stan. Tell him where you are and what's going on. Then you stay there, until Stan or I come to get you. Listen to whatever Roseanne tells you to do." It was against protocol, sending Kelly upstairs and away from her protection, but there were eight men outside with guns. And she was only one marshal, with a limited number of bullets.

"How will I know Stan, that it's safe?" Kelly was starting to freak. She couldn't handle a second gun battle so soon.

"Roseanne knows Stan, she'll take care of you. But I need you to go, now. Do not leave that apartment with anyone but Stan, do you understand?" She tried to stress this, she needed Kelly to stay put. She didn't want her getting hurt.

Kelly nodded, and then with one last look at Mary, took off up the stairs.

Mary drew her gun and turned off the safety. She looked out the window again; she could only see one of the guys, positioned as a lookout at the front door. She walked toward the apartment door with her gun aimed.

She heard the footsteps approaching, five sets. The other two men must be on guard, probably one in the lobby and one in the stairwell. She took her stance, four feet back from the door, ready to fire when the door opened.

They kicked it in, not bothering to see if it was unlocked. They moved in, spreading out, five of them, with their own guns drawn and pointed.

Mary recognized the one in the middle. His name was Johnny Zacarra and he was Jason's older brother. He lowered his gun and put it back in his waistband at his lower back. The other four did not lower their weapons.

"You must be a marshal. Well, aren't you a pretty little thing. Tell you what, why don't you tell me where my friend Kelly is, and you can go free." He let his eyes roam up and down her body. "On second thought, tell me where she is and then the two of us can christen this apartment."

Mary held in the gag that was working its way up her throat. "Well, that does sound appealing, really. But, I'm gonna have to pass. Now, all of you, drop your weapons, before I start shooting."

To her lack of surprise, no one listened, and she had asked _so_ nicely. "Marshal, there is one of you, and five of me. I don't know if you gamble at all, but these aren't great odds on your end."

Mary scanned the line of men, quickly assessing her opponents. Furthest on the left was the strong silent type, dressed in a tight black tee, a la Jean Claude Van Damme. Next to him was a bald man who equally matched his buddy in the muscle department. She passed over Johnny and the man in the suit next to him. The last guy was shorter than the others, but no less beefy.

He was right, the odds were definitely not in her favor. She could hear Marshall, in her head, telling her to save herself. But she was a marshal and she had a job to do. "I've faced worse."

Johnny chuckled. "Have it your way, but I am going to enjoy this." He gave a slight nod of his head; Jean Claude, Baldy, and Shorty all stepped forward, stowing their weapons.

Mary didn't hesitate. She fired three rounds before Jean Claude was on her. Two shots to Shorty's chest took him down, the third shot to Baldy's leg. But then her gun went flying from her hands with the force of Jean Claude's kick. She stumbled backward as well, but she recovered quickly and went in swinging.

Mary landed two hits to Jean Claude's stomach before Baldy grabbed her from behind. Lucky for Mary, she knew how to deal with assailants who attacked that way. She threw her head back, crushing his nose. She felt him release her and move back. But Jean Claude was right there, with three swift kicks to her side. She fell backward against the sofa.

The two men advanced again, one on either side. Mary groped backward and clutched the neck of the lamp sitting on the side table. She swung her arm around, bringing the lamp with her. It connected dead on with Baldy's head. He went down. Jean Claude took the opening but Mary was ready. She took what was left of the lamp and used it to ram him back against the wall. His head connected with a thud and he slid down against the wall.

Mary didn't have time to celebrate her victory. Three down, but she still had two to go. And she still couldn't hear the sirens of her backup. She whipped around to scope out her other opposition. She found Johnny in the same spot he'd been in when the fighting had started, but now he was alone.

"That was pretty impressive. Really, I love a girl who can hold her own. But let's see how you fare against Jerry here.

Before Mary could spin around, he had grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. "Hello, Sweetheart," he swung her around and slammed her face against the side table three times. He let her go then and she stumbled back. Spots swam in her vision and she fought to retain consciousness. He didn't give her a chance to recover. He reached forward, grabbing a fistful of her hair, so that now she was looking at him. "Where's the girl?" His breath was hot against her face.

Without giving herself a chance to think about the coming pain, she threw her head forward, bringing her own up against her assailant's. She heard his grunt of pain and gave herself a moment to bask in her success, but it was short lived. Jerry's fist connected with her stomach, knocking the breath out of her. She went down. On the ground though, she found one of the other goon's gun. She grabbed it and jumped to her feet, leveling it at Johnny, "Freeze."

"Not so fast, darling." Jerry was there. He grabbed her wrist and yanked, twisting it up and behind her back. Mary felt her shoulder dislocate and was unable to stop the shout of pain. "Now, where's the girl?"

Mary's head was pounding, her shoulder was burning, and she was having trouble breathing. But this guy was pissing her off. "She decided to give your brother a second chance. I put her on a plane back to the Big Apple."

Johnny laughed, loud, then he signaled Jerry. The blow was lightning quick. Mary turned her head and spit blood onto the floor. She ran her tongue over her teeth, checking them. Thankfully, they were still intact. "I'll ask again, where is Kelly? My brother is very worried about her."

Mary swayed on her feet, her head spinning. "Yea, I'm sure he is, worried about what she's going to say. Your brother is going to jail, John Boy."

Jerry didn't need the signal this time. He grabbed her dislocated shoulder, his thumb digging into her damaged joint. Then he brought his knee up hard into her chest.

Mary gasped, struggling to breathe after yet another blow to the chest. It was hard and painful. She was no expert, but she was willing to put good money down, betting she'd at the very least cracked, if not out and out broken, a couple of ribs. The throbbing pain that coincided with each breath reaffirmed her guess.

Johnny began speaking again, pulling her attention to him. "Come now, you've put on a good show. Your boss won't blame you for caving."

Mary knew he was right. Neither Stan nor Marshall would think less of her for giving up Kelly's location, not after the year she had already had, not if they were looking at her current state of health. In fact, she could practically hear both of them yelling at her for not giving up the information sooner. No, they wouldn't hold it against her if she broke, but neither of them would, in her situation, disclose a witness's location. She wouldn't do it either.

She drew herself up as tall as she could and looked Johnny dead in the eye, "Bite me."

It wasn't her smartest move, but it was what she did. She didn't let schmucks intimidate her, she did the intimidating. But this particular schmuck was very touchy. So Mary wasn't at all surprised when he nodded to Jerry. He backhanded her, sending her toppling over the couch. Jerry then came around and kicked her several times in the stomach, adding to the intense pain she was already experiencing from her ribs. He reached down to once again take hold of her bad shoulder, using it to haul her back to her feet.

Mary could hear wind rushing past her ears and most of her vision was fuzzy. Her legs refused to support her, putting more pressure and strain on her injured arm. She was losing the battle with consciousness. Her assailants must have sensed this because Jerry quickly wrapped his arms around her from behind, in a bear hug, to hold her up. Johnny crossed the room to get closer.

"I'm going to need that answer now, if you don't mind. Things will only get worse if you continue to be uncooperative."

If Mary had had the strength or the lung capacity, she would have laughed. Since she couldn't do that, she took a deep breath, "Bring it on."

She saw his eyes flash, finally fed up with her mouth. She tasted the blood, still flowing freely down her face. She smelled a heady mix of sweat, blood, and gun powder. She felt Jerry begin to squeeze her, slowly stopping her ability to get oxygen into her lungs. But most importantly, she heard her salvation in the distance.

Police sirens, back up was on its way. The goons heard them as well. Johnny let out a string of curses. While they were both distracted, Mary raised her right foot, bringing it down hard on Jerry's. And then she threw her head back, in what was becoming her signature move. She was proud to note the spray of blood on the back of her head, indicating she had most likely broken it.

The sirens were getting closer, which was a good thing because Jerry was now seriously pissed off. This time, he didn't wait for Johnny's invitation, he let his fists fly. Mary was able to avoid some; she even managed to throw a few jabs with her left hand.

But she was no match for him, not with her injuries. He drove her back to the wall, landing several blows to her already bruised body. He took one more swing, but she ducked, flashing forward with her left.

The first hit landed, but when she extended her arm for the second, he grabbed her wrist and swung. The new weight and direction threw her off balance. She went to the right where there was no wall, only a window.

Thankfully for Mary, the force of hitting the window was enough to drive what little consciousness she had left from her body. By the time she landed on the ground, three stories below, she was already out.

Stan had been first on the scene, having gotten the call from Kelly several minutes before the first concerned neighbor called in the gun shots.

Bobby D. was only seconds behind him. He'd pulled up as Stan was getting out of the car. They both had noticed the broken window and the crumbled form below it. But they didn't know who it was. They approached slowly, throwing glances at each other, knowing the other's presence did not bode well. The first thing they both noticed was the blonde hair, most of it matted by blood. It was covering her face, hiding the broken nose and bruised cheeks. Stan knew right away it was his Inspector. Never mind that he knew her witness was a brunette; he would have recognized Mary anywhere. He ran to her, pushing back her hair, trying to ignore the blood and cuts, the bruising, desperately searching for a pulse.

Bobby D. didn't make it that close. He watched Stan pull back her hair and he felt his bile rise. He managed to hold it down. Then he saw Stan's look of triumph, Bobby didn't wait another second, "I need a bus!"

Stan motioned to Bobby, "I need to check the witness; stay with her, please. Don't leave her alone."

Bobby nodded, though he'd had no intention of leaving Mary's side, and Stan took off into the building. He found Kelly where she was supposed to be and escorted her to the third floor where there were two marshals waiting to move her, yet again. Stan entered her apartment, the chaos from the fight still evident. Furniture moved, objects damaged, blood splattered and bodies strewn; Stan could barely comprehend.

Officers joined him on the third floor. He watched in silence for a few moments, trying to imagine the confrontation that had left three men unconscious and his inspector in a heap three floors down. None of his scenarios looked remotely pleasant.

Unable to stand there and watch any longer, he quickly made his way back downstairs. The paramedics were with Mary, Bobby watching anxiously from a few feet back. "Bobby, talk to me."

"It looks bad, Stan, but she's breathing." Bobby couldn't tear his eyes away from Mary's battered, bloody face. "How's Marshall?"

Stan looked quizzically at the detective, "He's fine."

This brought Bobby's confused face to land on Stan's. "How is he fine?"

"He's not here; he was on another assignment today."

Bobby was speechless for one second, but then he had his phone out, dialing the other marshal.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting her partner here and wondering why you weren't already doing this." There were hints of incredulity and anger in Bobby's tone. He knew how close the two partners were, and he had only been hanging around with them for about a year. Surely their boss would know better their relationship.

"Hang up the phone, Detective. Marshall will be told everything when his duties for the day are done. He doesn't need to be here for this anyway."

"He is not going to be happy about this, I hope you realize that." Bobby reluctantly put his phone away. "He'd want to be with her. What if she gets worse?" The very thought of Mary's condition worsening nearly caused him to cringe.

"He'll survive."

Bobby didn't say it, but all he could think was that if Mary didn't survive, neither would Marshall.

They watched as the paramedics worked to stabilize and move Mary to a gurney. One stopped long enough to tell Stan that she was alive but needed a hospital. Stan got the name of the one they were taking her to and watched as the bus pulled out.

Bobby walked up behind him. "Are you going to the hospital?"

Stan shook his head, "With Mary and Marshall out of commission, I'm stuck here."

Bobby nodded, "Where is Marshall?"

"Out of state," Stan answered as truthfully as he could.

"When does he get back?"

Stan hesitated a moment, trying to remember, "His plane arrives tonight, after seven."

Again, Bobby nodded. "I'm going to follow her to the hospital, when you're done here, meet me over there. You can stay with her while I pick Marshall up." Bobby walked away before Stan could answer. He was in his car, siren blaring, within minutes.

He sat in the waiting room for three and a half hours before Stan walked in. Bobby had no connection to Mary, so he didn't know any real details but one of the nurses had been keeping him semi-informed.

When Stan arrived, however, the doctor came over. The list was long. Mary's shoulder was in fact dislocated. She had five broken ribs in total from repeated kicks to the chest and her nose was broken from hitting the side table. She had fractured her left tibia when she'd fallen out the window. All of this was in addition to the multiple bruises, contusions, cuts, gashes, and scrapes. An impressive list in its own right, but none of it worried the doctors. No what worried them was that she had been unconscious for at least four hours and still showed no signs of waking.

Bobby and Stan could do nothing but wait. An hour after Stan had shown up, they had led the two law men into Mary's room. There was no sound but the beeping of Mary's heart monitor. They talked some, when the silence became too much for one of them. Stan filled Bobby in on the scene he had found on the third floor. The CSU guys had put together a most likely scenario for what had happened.

From Kelly, they knew there had been eight men total. Stan was anxious to find the other five. Kelly had been unable to ID the men from three floors up. Stan had the team combing the place for any trace of the other men.

The hours ticked by slowly, both men worrying silently over what would happen. Both men had a million things they should be doing, but neither wanted to leave Mary alone. And Bobby wanted to be able to tell Marshall he had been there for him, because he knew that when Marshall landed, there would be no excuses.

There was still no change in Mary's condition when Bobby stood up to leave at six. He drove quickly to the airport and waited the half hour till Marshall and his witness had disembarked. Bobby watched as Marshall approached. He was scanning the crowd, as if assessing the situation. But Bobby knew he was looking for Mary. He watched the man's face as he registered first Mary's absence, and then Bobby's own presence.

"Bobby? What are you doing here?" Marshall kept his tone light, unsure of why the Detective was waiting for him, but not wanting to alarm Emily.

"Stan asked me to come. He said you would need a ride."

Marshall didn't like Bobby's evasiveness. "Where's Mary? She's supposed to pick me up." It was a standing tradition, when one of them was out of town alone; the other was their ride home from the airport, train or bus station.

"Look, man, I'm just following orders." Bobby threw his hands up, as in defeat. He could imagine Marshall's reaction to news that Mary had been beaten to a pulp and now lay comatose. He didn't think bringing it about in front of one of his witness's was necessary.

Marshall was even less thrilled with that answer. Maybe Mary was still with her new witness, the one from Oregon. But then why would Stan order him here? And more importantly, why would Bobby follow those orders? He and Mary barely followed Stan's orders, and he was their boss.

From the look on Bobby's face, he knew he would get no information from the detective. So he escorted his witness through baggage claim and followed Bobby to his car. The ride to Emily's house was silent. Bobby spent it trying to find the words to explain to Marshall, and Marshall trying to find the cause of this newest turn of events. It wasn't till after Emily was safely back in her apartment and Marshall was again in the passenger seat of Bobby's Charger that they had the conversation both had been thinking about.

Marshall turned to the detective, they had an understanding, they were friends. He would answer Marshall's questions. "What's going on?"

Bobby kept his eyes on the road. "It's kind of a long story."

"Stop the car, and tell me what's going on."

Bobby couldn't take any more. He looked over at Marshall, nothing but pain in his eyes. "You don't want me to stop this car."

It all clicked for Marshall then: Bobby's evasive answers, his worried tone, his very presence. They all meant that something had happened, and the only person that something could have happened to was his impulsive, stubborn, beautiful partner. The same partner he was head over heels in love with. His voice was tight when he spoke next, "Go faster."

Bobby flicked his siren on and flew through the streets to the hospital. He wanted to explain to Marshall, but he knew that no words would reach him until he had seen Mary.

Marshall figured out where they were going before they got there. He let out a pained moan. Bobby needed to say something, so he said the only thing he could. "She's still alive, Marshall."

Marshall's only response was a tight nod. He was cursing himself for leaving Mary alone, for not protecting her, yet again. They were pulling onto the hospital's street when Marshall spoke again, "What floor?"

Bobby hesitated, "Marshall…"

"What floor, Bobby?"

He answered this time, "Fifth floor, east wing." If Marshall knew the hospital as well as he himself did, he knew what that meant.

"ICU?" It came out as a strained question, as if Marshall was desperate to deny the answer he already knew.

"She's alive, Marshall, that's all that matters."

Marshall wanted to laugh, but he couldn't, not with his heart in his throat. "That's not all that matters." They had pulled into the hospital lot by this point. Marshall didn't wait for Bobby's response. He was out the door and jogging into the hospital before the car was even parked.

Marshall ran through the hospital, dashing down the fifth floor corridor. He didn't know which room was hers but it didn't matter, he'd find her. He heard the elevator ding behind him and knew it was Bobby even before he shouted the room number down the hall. Marshall ran the last few feet and turned into his partner's room. The sight stole what was left of his breath away.

She was still, her skin pale, where it was not covered with bruises or bandages. The nurses had sponged most of the blood off but she still looked bad. Her right arm was in a sling and there was a butterfly stitch on her nose. Her left leg, though covered, was bigger than her right.

Marshall wavered on his feet, the sight of his broken partner too much for him. Bobby came up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him. For several seconds, all Marshall could focus on was Mary's heart beat as it registered on the machine. When his own heart had slowed to match her rhythm, he was finally able to speak. "What happened?"

He'd expected Bobby to answer, so Stan's voice threw him off, he hadn't even noticed him before. "They came after her new witness."

"Who?" Marshall barely choked out the question.

"Inspector, now really isn't the time for…"

They never heard what it wasn't the time for though, because Marshall had finally torn his eyes off of Mary. He rounded on Stan, grabbed his lapels, and pushed him back, up against the wall, "Who?"

This time it was Bobby who answered, "Italian mob, the ones she took care of were low level guys out of New York. Plus we got prints from two of the others." Bobby had called into the station on his way over to the airport, wanting an update on what was known about the case.

Marshall did not let go of Stan, "How many?"

Again Bobby responded, "Eight total, but she took three of them out."

Marshall's eyes were still locked on Stan's, but he was proud of Mary. "Why didn't you call me? She's my partner, I deserve to know."

Stan spoke then, "You needed to keep your mind on the job. This could not be allowed to cloud your judgment."

It took everything in Marshall not to deck his boss right then, "She's my partner."

"And this is the job." Stan empathized with Marshall; he knew his man was hurting. But this was the reality of what they did.

Marshall let go of Stan in disgust. It didn't matter that Stan was right. All that mattered was that Mary was hurt, "What did she say?"

The other two men looked at each other. Stan responded, "She hasn't said anything."

Momentarily lost, Marshall looked from Stan to Bobby, and then he understood. "How long has she been out?"

"Since about 10:30, that's when we found her"

Almost ten hours, his partner had been unconscious for almost ten hours, and he hadn't been here. Marshall took a deep breath, "What happened?"

Bobby answered before Stan could. He understood that Stan needed to be the boss. It didn't matter that he had spent the afternoon wearing a trench into the floor of Mary's room. He had to make sure Marshall understood the protocols. But what Stan didn't seem to understand was that Marshall was in love with his partner. Bobby had seen it during her abduction. The guy was head over heels for her, which was why he'd wanted to call him in the first place. It was one thing to tell the guy his partner was lying in a coma, it was quite different to wait ten hours to tell him the girl he loved had been thrown out a third floor window after getting jumped by eight guys.

"She was at the girl's apartment complex. The guys show up and she sent the girl upstairs to call for backup. That's what we know. The rest is CSU guess work. We've got reason to believe that not all of them went upstairs. At least four, maybe five, did. She shot two of them. There was a fight between her and the remaining men.

"They roughed her up a bit. The nose, the bruises, the shoulder, they're all from the fight, probably most of the ribs too. The last guy must have heard the sirens and got desperate. We found her on the ground outside, we're guessing he pushed her out. That's how she fractured her tibia."

Marshall struggled to take those images in, "Ribs?"

"Three on her right side, two on her left; the bruising suggests they were the result of repeated kicks."

Marshall was feeling light headed, "Why hasn't she woken up yet?"

"She fell out of a third story window, after taking on at least four guys. Doc says there's nothing to worry about just yet." Stan was going for light, wanting to calm his inspector.

His plan failed. Marshall turned on him again, "Nothing to worry about? Nothing, Stan? Mary is lying there in a coma, with broken ribs and a fractured tibia. Don't tell me there's nothing to worry about."

"Inspector, calm down."

"How can you tell me to calm down when she's lying there with tubes in her arms and her every heart beat being measured on the off chance it stops?"

"Marshall, come on man, we care about her too."

Marshall turned to Bobby with pain in his eyes, "He let her do this alone, Bobby. Even though he knew these guys had already put two marshals in the hospital. Even though he knows how determined and stubborn she can be." Marshall couldn't keep the pain from seeping into his voice. "She's been lying here alone for hours."

Mary hadn't been alone, but Marshall hadn't meant them. He hadn't been there, Bobby understood his unspoken words, but Stan didn't. "She hasn't been alone; we've been here all day."

Marshall glared at his boss, "Oh really, you've been here? OK, well were you there when she couldn't sleep for three weeks because every time she closed her eyes she was back in that basement? Were you there to walk her into her house when she got out because her legs weren't strong enough to carry her? Did you follow her into the desert for three and a half miles when she couldn't think straight, so that when she had calmed down she'd be able to find her way home? Did you drag her off of that bridge because she refused to leave a man to die? Tell me again how she wasn't alone." Marshall had tears in his eyes, though he knew neither Stan nor Bobby could see them.

"Marshall, I know you're worried about her, but there was nothing you could have done for her. She's unconscious, your being here wouldn't have changed that." Stan didn't seem to know when to shut his mouth.

Marshall was tired of fighting with the other marshal. All he wanted now was to sit by Mary's side and will her to get better. He swallowed the angry words he wanted to throw at Stan and instead turned back to Mary's bed. "Well, I'm here now. And you both should go."

Bobby didn't want to start the yelling again, but he knew Marshall must be exhausted. "Marshall, you've got to be beat. Go home, get some sleep. You can sit with her in the morning. Visiting hours are almost over anyway."

Marshall wasn't going anywhere. This was the same hospital he had been in when he had been shot, so the nurses were familiar with both him and Mary. They wouldn't make him leave, even if only to make sure when Mary woke, they wouldn't have to deal with her. "I'm not going anywhere. She's not going to wake up alone." That had been one of the worst parts for her. When she had come out of her chloroform induced nap, she had been alone. It was her greatest fear.

Stan opened his mouth to argue but Bobby stopped him. "McQueen, can I talk to you for a minute?" He grabbed Stan's arm and pulled him into the hallway. "How far are you going to push him? Do you want him to shoot you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, detective."

"She's been in a coma all day and you didn't tell him."

"He had work to do."

"You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Stan had no idea what Bobby was talking about, and he was starting to get a little aggravated.

"He's in love with her. The two of them, they're best friends. He needs her almost as much as she needs him. He's not going to leave that room until _she_ tells him to leave." He cut Stan off before he could argue. "Give him a few days, Stan. He needs this, they both do."

Stan nodded, not really getting it, but he decided to let it go. He looked back once at Mary's door and then walked down the hall. Bobby watched the elevator doors close and then went back into Mary's room.

"Thank you for that." Marshall had moved to Mary's bedside.

"No problem; I didn't want to have to arrest you for assault or anything."

"I wouldn't have let you."

Bobby didn't argue that, he was pretty sure Marshall would have resisted if he had tried to arrest him. "Look, I'm gonna take off, leave you two alone. If you need anything, just give me a call."

Marshall still hadn't taken his eyes off Mary, "Thanks, Bobby, for everything."

Bobby nodded, though he knew that the other man wasn't watching; "Of course, just do me a favor? Give me a call when she wakes up?"

"I will."

Bobby backed out of the room then, leaving the partners alone.

Once Bobby was gone, and Marshall was truly alone with his partner, he reached forward and took Mary's hand. He brought it to his lips , placing a chaste kiss on its back, "I'm here, baby, come back to me." He didn't even think about the words, they just poured out of him. He was too distraught to police his mouth. "Please, you can't leave me, Mare, I need you."

Marshall spent the night with her. At times he could be found sitting at her bedside, talking to her and holding her hand. Other times, he paced at the foot of her bed. He would rant at her, cursing whatever she had done to end up in this position. But mostly, he simply asked her to wake up, to not abandon him, as she had once asked of him.

He began to doze around sunrise, the nurse making morning rounds was careful not to disturb him. A little before 9, Eleanor turned up with coffee and a bag of bagels and scones. Marshall was awake. "You should go home, Marshall, get some sleep, a shower."

"I can't leave."

"I know, but you know she'd tell you to do the same thing."

"It doesn't matter," Marshall shook his head slowly.

"I know that, too. Here at least eat something." She extended the bag and coffee to him. He gratefully accepted it. "Stan told me what happened yesterday."

"Have you come to tell me I was out of line?"

"Of course not, Stan was. I told him as much. If I had known yesterday…I thought he called you. I just assumed he had called. I don't know what possessed him to keep you in the dark. You could have handled it."

Marshall shook his head, "I would have come straight home. I couldn't have left her alone. Stan made the right call, I know he did. But knowing that doesn't change anything. I should have been here. Stan should have let me be here."

Eleanor didn't know how to respond so she said what she had come here to say, "Regardless, I gave him a piece of my mind. You're not expected in for the rest of the week. Stay with her."

"I plan on it." Marshall hesitated for a second, "Eleanor?"

She read his hesitation, the pain in his voice. She knew his real question. "Don't, Marshall, don't even think it."

"How can I not, it's been almost twenty four hours."

"You need to believe in her. You're the only one who always has, you can't stop now, not when she truly needs it. Besides, we both know Mary is too damn stubborn to go out like this. She'll wake up. You know her; she lives according to her own schedule. It may take awhile, but she'll come around eventually."

"I don't know how long I can watch her, just laying there, quiet. Three years, she's never been quiet, never been still, not even when she's asleep."

Eleanor nodded even though she knew Marshall's eyes weren't on her. This was why she had yelled at Stan, because she knew how Marshall felt about Mary. She would have thought it was obvious to someone who knew them as well as Stan did, but she was wrong. It had been wrong of their boss to keep them apart, to not allow Marshall to sit at Mary's side. Eleanor searched her mind for any kind of comfort that she could offer the man sitting before her. "In a few days, you'll be begging her to shut up. Enjoy the peace while you can." She saw Marshall stiffen; she continued to keep him from taking her words wrong. "She's not going to let go without a fight, Marshall."

"She already had one, that's what put her here. I just wish I had been able to talk to her one last time." He thought back to the previous morning, the rounds of phone tag that they had played.

"You always do. Don't give up on her yet, Marshall. She needs someone to be on her side, to be her anchor."

"I am. I'd do anything for her."

"I know that, and believe it or not, so does she. She won't leave you, she won't do that to someone else, not after the pain it caused her." Eleanor had used her FBI connections to delve into Mary's past when she had first come to work with WITSEC. She had hoped it would give her a way to get on the inspector's good side. She had learned quickly that that was the wrong approach, so she had kept quiet about what she had learned. But it had helped her in handling her coworker. She had stopped trying to win Mary over and had begun playing the game by Mary's rules. Once she had changed her approach, Mary had accepted her. Now what she knew might just help Marshall.

Marshall wondered briefly how Eleanor knew so much about Mary, but didn't bother asking, "I hope you're right."

Eleanor let his acknowledgement stand. She watched Mary for a few minutes, whispering a silent prayer for the two partners. "I'll come back tonight, around dinner. You can go home and shower, understood? I won't have you wearing yourself out worrying about her. She'd be pissed if I let that happen." Before Marshall could argue, Eleanor was gone.

The days began taking on a pattern after that. Eleanor would come in the morning, with coffee and breakfast. Around noon, Bobby would stop by with lunch for the two of them. A little after six, Eleanor and Stan would show up, sometimes bringing Brandi or Jinx with them. Eleanor would then make him leave. He would take the opportunity to go home, shower and change. He would eat something and make a few phone calls, checking on some of his own, and Mary's, witnesses. Then he would return to the hospital, to spend a long night in Mary's room, pacing, talking, tossing.

It had been a week of this and Marshall was beginning to lose hope. He was out of time and would have to return to work in the morning. The doctors had begun looking at Mary as a lost cause. Marshall knew enough medicine to know that the longer Mary stayed out, the worse her chances of ever waking up became.

Eleanor and Stan had left for the night, taking Brandi with them. Stan had taken a moment to remind Marshall he was expected in the office in the morning. Marshall took his seat by Mary's side, picking up her hand, desperate for some kind of connection to her. "Mary, honey, I'm not trying to rush you or anything, but I would really like you to wake up now. I don't want to leave you like this, but we have witnesses that need help. If you could give me some kind of sign, I'd be able to stay."

She didn't move, and he hadn't expected her to. He'd been making this and similar requests all week. After the soft request would come the angry begging, followed by his impassioned plea. It had become routine, and Marshall followed each step faithfully. "Damn it, Mary, when you made me promise not to die, I assumed it was a two way street. You don't get to be the one to leave, that's not fair. You can't ask me to stay for you and then leave me behind. It's selfish. You need to wake up, we have a job to do." The anger in his voice was both real and fake. He was pissed at the world, not Mary. He couldn't be mad at Mary, but fear was getting the better of him.

"Mare, please wake up. I can't do this alone. I need you here. It's strange how one day you can meet someone and then next thing you know they're the center of everything. Sometimes it's hard for me to remember a time when you weren't in my life. Because you're in it now, so entangled and entwined that I don't know where you end and I begin." He leaned in and kissed her hand. Even though his pleas followed the same pattern every night, the words were always different. For three years, Marshall had been biting his tongue on things he wanted to say to his partner, he couldn't keep them in any longer.

"I need you, Mary, I've said it before. You're my best friend, my partner. I can barely order a drink without your opinion. It's the only one that matters to me anymore. You might not need anyone, but I need you, Mary Shannon. I need you so bad it hurts and sitting here watching you is killing me. So please open your eyes, because I love you."

All the stress and worry from the past week welled up in Marshall and he couldn't hold it in any longer. The tears came, but they ran silently down his face. He bowed his head.

"Marshall?" The sound of her voice brought his head back up searching to find her eyes, now open.

"Hey, sweetheart," His voice was thick with tears.

She opened her mouth again but was having trouble speaking with a dry throat. Marshall reached over with a glass of water and helped her to take a few sips. When she was able to, she tried again, "Marshall, where are we? What happened?"

He squeezed her hand, "Relax, Mary, everything's okay. I promise. What's the last thing you remember?"

Mary closed her eyes for a second to think. At first, all she could remember was Marshall's voice, speaking as if from a long way off, saying wonderful things she had never heard him say before. It wasn't till she moved to sit up and felt a shooting pain that she was able to remember anything else. Then it all came screaming back. "There was a fight, in Kelly's apartment. Where is she, is she ok?"

"Kelly's fine, she already been relocated."

Mary let out a relieved sigh, to know Kelly was safe, but she would miss the girl. "Good; so now, where are we?"

Marshall tried to suppress a smirk, "Albuquerque General."

Mary nodded, that should have been obvious. She had taken quite a beating, "What happened?"

"The Zacarra's people came for Kelly. According to her, there were eight of them. But you were already out when Stan arrived."

"I remember. Have we caught them?"

"You managed to get three of them yourself."

"The brother was there, Johnny. And some guy named Jerry, he did most of the fighting."

"Yea, we found their prints in the apartment. Can you remember anything else?"

Mary thought, trying to piece together the barely there memories, but something kept getting in the way. And that something was Marshall. "Wait, what are you doing here?"

Marshall looked slightly hurt, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're supposed to be in Virginia." She thought for a second, "Your plane isn't supposed to land until seven." Marshall hesitated a few seconds too long in answering, "Marshall, why aren't you in Virginia?"

He wanted nothing more than to avert his eyes, so that he could lie to her. He didn't want to tell her that she had lost a week of her life. And there was no way he could lie to her with her eyes trained on him as they currently were. But after a week of not being able to look into her beautiful stormy eyes, there was no chance of him turning away now. "I was in Virginia."

She took that in, trying to make sense of the pieces of the puzzle she had at her disposal, but they didn't add up. "How long, exactly, have I been unconscious?"

His heart broke for her. She may not have the whole story, but the pain in her eyes told him that she knew his answer was not going to be good. "Mary, honey, it doesn't really matter."

Mary was confused and scared, so she did what she knew best. She latched onto the anger that came from being spoken to like a child, and used it to calm her frayed nerves. Marshall was trying to protect her, and she was thankful for it. But his evasiveness would not change anything and it was only serving to frighten her more. "How long, Marshall?"

Marshall drew in a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh, answering, "It's been a week."

He watched her face fall, her eyes closed to trap the tears he knew were there but that she would never acknowledge. "Oh, God," Mary took a moment to absorb the news, to compose herself. She made the mistake of bringing her hand to her face in an effort to hide the emotions she knew were showing. The pain was immense, her shoulder and ribs screaming in protest. She winced as the pain shot through her, stealing her breath, and let out a grunt, "Holy shit, I feel like I got hit by a freight train." She looked down, trying to appraise her current state of health. Unfortunately, her ability to identify her own injuries was severely lacking, she cast her eyes to Marshall. "What's the damage, exactly, besides missing a week of my life?"

Marshall reached out and cupper her cheek, rubbing his thumb along her high cheek bone. She let him, this contact feeling safe, reassuring. This was his girl and he was so happy to be able to reach out and touch her. But relaying her list of injuries was too painful, he kept it detached, as if he was talking about someone else. "Dislocated shoulder, broken nose, 5 broken ribs, fractured tibia," He swallowed, knowing he wasn't done yet. "The doctors were worried about a concussion, but then you didn't wake up, so it became a moot point. Then there's the bruising to your abdomen, you're practically a smurf. Not to mention the various cuts from the window and the fight, though most of the superficial stuff is healed up by now."

Mary nodded, trying to take all that in. Images from the fight flashed through her mind, linking the injuries with the blows. "Well, no wonder I feel like I got hit by a train."

"Falling out of a third story window will do that to you," Marshall embraced their banter, having missed it this last week.

"I'll be sure to remember that for next time." Mary's sarcasm was clearly evident.

The smile died on Marshall's lips, "There better not be a next time. I don't know if I can survive something like this again."

She immediately felt bad, but knew the best way to reassure him was to ignore it, "Relax, Marshall, I was kidding." She noted the fear and worry still present in his eyes and relented. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry"

Marshall relaxed, "I know. It's just been a long week. Remember when it was me lying here and you had to wait six hours for me to wake up?"

Mary shivered, "Yea, I remember."

"It was like that, only longer and I didn't have any promises to hold onto."

Mary could imagine what Marshall had lived through this week; after all, she had done it. But she had clung to his promise to live for her like a drowning victim to a life vest. She would have gone crazy without it. "You should already know that I'm not going anywhere if I can help it."

Again Marshall reached out and cupped her cheek, "I do know. It was just hard to remember without you calling me a doofus."

Mary leaned into Marshall's hand, her head swimming with his voice. He kept saying things she'd never actually heard him say before, things that made her heart swell. She could hear him begging her to wake up, telling her he needed her, saying that he loved her."You've been here all week, haven't you?"

"For the most part; I took a shower or two."

A small smile crossed her lips, "Which I appreciate." She held his gaze for a moment, "Why?"

A part of him wanted to look away, wanting to protect her from the emotions he knew she could easily read in his eyes. But he couldn't do that to her, "I didn't want you to wake up alone."

Mary felt the tears fill her eyes. She didn't know what she would do without her partner, "Thank you."

"It's nothing," he tried to brush it off. He didn't need her thanks, her being awake was enough.

Anger flashed in her eyes for a moment. "It's not nothing, doofus, it's something. It's something big." She swallowed, trying to prepare herself for what was coming. "Have Brandi or Jinx even been here?"

"Of course, they usually come by for dinner, with Eleanor and Stan. I figured you didn't really want them staying."

"I don't, not really. I was just wondering, why is it my family can barely spare five minutes for me, but you've been camped out by my bedside for a week?" She tried to keep the pain from her voice, not wanting to reveal just how much it hurt that her family didn't care.

Marshall hesitated a second, wondering if she had heard what he had said earlier, "Because I'm your partner, because I love you." He decided to take the leap, he had come to close to losing her to let her slip away again.

"You keep saying that," Mary tried to hide the smile that threatened to spread across her face.

"Saying what," Marshall was momentarily confused.

This time, the smile did form, "That you love me."

It was in the open now. "That's because I do. I've had a lot of time to think, what with you not speaking to me and all. A coma can really put things in perspective."

She understood that. After all, being alone for hours on end gave you ample time to reevaluate your life. "So can 18 hours in a basement."

Marshall froze for a second, "Mare, what are you saying?"

"That I think I might love you too." There was no might about it, she knew. Had known for awhile, but had been too afraid to do anything about it. She needed him too much and had been too afraid that he might withdraw from her, not feeling the same. She had been in a bad way after leaving that basement; she couldn't risk driving away the one person she trusted. Not when she couldn't trust her own mind, couldn't close her eyes.

"You think?" Marshall tried not to let his hopes rise, but that declaration was one of the best pieces of information he'd ever gotten.

"I know. I've never felt this way about a guy before, about anyone. Before those guys showed up, I was freaking out, worried because we kept missing each other's phone calls. And for the last week, you've been telling me how much you need me, but I don't feel trapped. Lord help me, I feel safe, happy. It's never been like that before."

"You heard what I said, all of it?"

She chuckled; Marshall's face was one of terror, "Pretty much."

His voice turned skeptical, "And it doesn't scare you?"

"No, it does. But I want it more than I fear it."

"I'm glad," he leaned in and kissed her gently, not wanting to hurt her.

When he pulled back, she let out a small chuckle, "I sure picked a great time to be unable to move." His laugh joined hers. It was refreshing to hear her normal sarcasm.

Marshall allowed himself a few moments longer to be close to her. Then he leaned back, "I should go get the doctor, call everybody. They've all been pretty worried about you." Mary looked like she wanted to argue but thought better of it, as the pain was starting to get the better of her. Laughter might be the best medicine, but it certainly didn't help when the malady was broken ribs.

"Ok, just hurry back, please?" Marshall nodded and quickly went to the hospital room door, disappearing down the hall. The doctor entered within minutes. He began poking and prodding, asking Mary questions about how she was feeling and how much she remembered. When he had finished his examination, he gave her a smile.

"You've had a lot of people very worried. They'll be happy to see you awake. Most of the superficial damage, the bruising and cuts, have healed up. The shoulder has healed, but it might be a little tender for a while. Your nose has set, no problem there. In a couple of weeks, your tibia will be good as new. Your ribs are going to take longer. But overall, there's been no real permanent damage. You should be good as new in six months."

Mary let out a low groan. Six months of sick leave and administrative detail was worse than six days in a coma. The doctor had the decency to look like he sympathized with her. "Thanks, Doc, for everything."

"The pleasure was mine, Ms. Shannon. However, I would ask that you and Mr. Mann stop coming in here. I do hate repeat customers." He gave her a smile. When Marshall had been shot, she had gotten to spend a lot of time with Dr. Williams. While she wouldn't exactly call them friends, he wasn't on her list of people she wanted to throttle, which was saying something.

As he exited the room, Marshall reentered. "So, what's the verdict?"

Mary didn't even try to hide her grimace. If there was one person who would understand her anger over a six month re-coop, it was her partner, who would have to deal with a substitute. "Most of the damage is healed. If it was only my tibia, I'd be back to work at the end of the month. But with the broken ribs, he says it'll be six months before I'm completely healed." She thought for a moment. "That means, what I'm house bound till the end of the month, right? Maybe Stan will let me push papers after that. Five months in my house, and you'll need to find a permanent replacement, because I'll have killed someone."

Marshall hid his dismay at her timeline with a smile at her assessment. "I'm sure Stan will want you back in the office as soon as possible. I talked to Eleanor, she and Stan are going to come by in the morning. Stan's letting me have one more day off. Bobby said he'd come by then, too."

Mary let out a sigh. As much as she wanted to see her coworkers, she was exhausted. More than anything, she wanted to curl up in Marshall's arms and slide into oblivion, at least for a few hours. Despite the ample pain meds that the doctor had given her, she could still feel a steady throbbing from most of her injuries and while not exactly difficult, breathing wasn't an overly comfortable process. Letting her brave front fall, she locked eyes with Marshall, who had been watching her. "Want to do me a favor?"

Marshall considered, not able to guess what she could possibly want. "I'm not breaking you out of here. You're not ready to leave yet."

Mary held in the small chuckle that his words brought, wanting to avoid that added pain. "Relax, I have no intention of going anywhere as long as they're giving me the drugs." She took another breath, slow so as not to disturb her ribs too much. "Will you lay with me, please?"

Marshall considered denying her for all of three seconds. But his pent up desire to wrap his arms around her, coupled with the look of pleading in her eyes, squashed any such thoughts. He moved to the left side of her bed. Careful not to jostle her, he sat down beside her and wrapped one arm around her, using the other to take hold of her hand. He felt her snuggle against him and then relax. Within minutes her heart monitor had slowed, indicating that she had fallen asleep. With the steady pulse of the machine as his lullaby, Marshall drifted into the first true sleep he had had since first arriving in this forsaken place.

When Eleanor and Stan entered the hospital room in the morning, that is how they found the marshals, gingerly wrapped around each other in the hospital bed. Not wanting to wake them, but needing to say it, Eleanor pointed toward them, "That's why you needed to tell him. Because this is what they both need."

Stan nodded. He knew. He had suspected it for awhile, but had tried to ignore the signs, hoping the two partners wouldn't cross the line. It's not that he didn't want them together, it didn't bother him in the least. But he had feared what the fallout would be. Their perfect partnership would be shattered if their relationship failed. And if the worst should happen to one of them, as was all too possible, the other would be destroyed. Of course, events of the last year had shown him that that would be the case regardless of their relationship status. "Come on, we'll let them sleep."

It was Mary's voice that called them back. "I'm not asleep." Normally she would have sat up, to show she was fine. But she wasn't an idiot, she was not fine and if she moved, it would hurt like a bitch. Stan and Eleanor still looked hesitant, their eyes moving to her partner, laying beside her. "And neither is he." She moved to raise her uninjured arm, to smack her partner, but his hand moved out to still hers.

"There is no need to hit me, I'm awake." His eyes found hers and they locked for a minute. Stan and Eleanor's presence didn't matter. They each took a moment, to reassure themselves of the other. After a moment, Marshall looked away, meeting Stan's gaze. "Good morning, look who finally decided to join us." He threw another quick glance at Mary, as if he needed to point out to his coworkers that she was awake.

It was Eleanor who answered, trying her hardest to insert steel into her tone, so that Mary would not know how worried she had been, "Well, it's about time."

Mary only smiled. She knew the older woman had been worried, that Stan had been worried. And she was sorry to have worried them. "I know, I know, you're not going to fire me for sleeping on the job are you, Stan?" She tried to keep her tone light, desperate to keep things normal, to forget that things were not.

Stan looked her up and down, amazed at how strong his marshal was. She was lying in a hospital bed, she was broken and bruised, and still she was trying her hardest to be Marshal Mary Shannon. He couldn't help the proud smile that took over his face, "As long as you promise never to do it again, I'm willing to give you another chance."


End file.
